


I just want

by Meelah



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adoribull Holiday Exchange, BDSM, Bondage, Dom/sub, Gags, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Name-Calling, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-10 21:43:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5602126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meelah/pseuds/Meelah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian needs a distraction and the Bull is more than happy to help him.</p><p>Done for the Adoribull Holiday Exchange 2016</p>
            </blockquote>





	I just want

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nessa_T](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nessa_T/gifts).



> _“I have learned now that while those who speak about one's miseries usually hurt, those who keep silence hurt more.”_   
>  _― C.S. Lewis_

“Would you do something for me?” Dorian asks, his voice conversational, but his face is shadowed by emotion he can’t hide from the Iron Bull.

They’re having dinner at Skyhold main hall and the Bull looks up at him from his soup.

“Anything,” he says.

“You don’t even know what I am going to ask,” Dorian says, his upper lip twitching a little out of irritation.

“The answer would still be the same,” the Bull says. ”I would do anything for you.”

Dorian looks away, pushing his bowl aside having hardly touched it.

“You know I’m always right,” the mage says feigning perfect superiority. “But this time… I may have done something in haste.”

The way Dorian is sitting against the light makes it hard for the Bull to see him properly.

“I’m in a mood for a... distraction,” Dorian adds finally when the Bull has let the silence lay between them for long enough that it’s clear he isn’t going to ask.

The Bull touches Dorian’s knee under the table where no one else can see it. Sex is easy for them and Dorian has never been shy to ask for it, so this is unusual.

“Would you stop being so fucking considerate for a moment,” Dorian sneers. “I want—“ he takes a deep breath. “—you are going to make me say it, aren’t you.”

“You know the rules,” the Bull says. “I need to hear you say it.”

Dorian does.

***

Dorian undresses in the Bull’s room.

Usually he does it slowly, teasing, provoking, loving the attention and the Bull’s gaze on him.

But not tonight. Tonights he rips off his clothes like he wants to peel off a layer of skin with them, then he stands there with his head lowered, waiting for the Bull. 

“On your knees,” the Bull says, his voice is emotionless, giving Dorian the detachment that he had asked for.

Dorian obeys, lowers himself down on his knees on the stone floor, eyes still down. Breath comes easier now, pressure being slowly lifted from his shoulders.

“Hands behind your back,” the Bull says, and Dorian’s heartbeat starts to race.

Again Dorian obeys, moving his hands behind himself and clutching his wrists. The Bull walks around him until Dorian can’t see him anymore, moving behind him in the room, opening the chest they keep their playwares in. Dorian feels the hairs in the back of his neck raise in anticipation, but the Bull lets him wait, taking his time picking out his choice of implements. Finally Dorian can hear Bull’s bare feet behind him, but the Bull doesn’t touch, doesn’t give him any of those gentle comforting assurances he usually does during their sessions. 

“Release your hands,” the Bull commands.

Dorian lets go of his wrists but doesn’t drop his hands, and the Bull finds a palm and presses a bell onto it, then he closes Dorian’s fingers around it. 

“Drop it if you want to stop,” he says in a murmur. “Say, ‘I understand’.” 

“I understand,” Dorian breathes. “Now will you get on—“

Before he has time to finish his sentence the Bull’s hand has gripped his hair so tight the rest of the words disappear in a gasp.

“Do _not_ speak unless I give you the permission,” the Bull growls, shaking Dorian’s head.

Dorian’s vision blurs for a second when eyes water from the prickling in his scalp but grits his teeth together. 

“Mouth open,” the Bull says and then: “Wider. As wide as you can.”

Dorian stretches his mouth open wide, breaths coming faster now. The Bull bends Dorian’s head back and says sharply: “Don’t move,” and lets go.

Dorian remains still and a few seconds later the Bull presses a ball gag into his mouth. Dorian doesn’t see it but by the size of it it feels like the new one they brought in Val Royeaux on their last visit, the one they afterwards deemed a little bit too big and uncomfortable to use. Dorian groans and embraces both the fact that the Bull kept it anyway, and that he’s chosen to use it now. He swallows around the ball as the Bull ties the gag in place. 

“This should teach you to be quiet,” the Bull snarls and Dorian loves how the words sting.

The ropes are next to come, loop after loop around his arms and shoulders, pulled tight, with the Bull’s fingers briefly touching Dorian’s fingers checking as the only sign of care the Bull is not willing to give up. Then leather around Dorian’s neck, the Bull has chosen a collar made of thick stiff untreated leather that scratches Dorian’s skin and digs into his collarbones, and Dorian deliberately moves against it just to feel it chafe. 

“Like a stray dog, begging to be collared,” the Bull says against his ear and snaps a leash on, giving it a tug. “Will you heel, little dog, or does you master have to teach you manners?”

Dorian groans a little, trying to look at the Bull but the big man tightens his grip on the leash, keeping Dorian still. Dorian’s cock has started to fill out, and he closes his eyes for a brief second, feeling his restraints.

“Let’s see then,” the Bull says and stands up, loosening the leash to give them distance. “Come on, little dog, let’s go for a walk…”

The Bull takes a few steps, then tugs the leash again, willing Dorian to follow. Dorian is breathing heavier and he’s pulling air through his nose, his jaw already aching around the gag. The Bull pulls on the leash again, more insistently this time and Dorian takes the first step towards him, swaying a little on his knees trying to find a balance between the pull of the leash and his arms tied behind his back. The Bull takes a step back to keep the leash taut, further unbalancing Dorian who stumbles forward and only just manages to keep upright. The Bull hadn’t stepped in to catch him, Dorian notes and the realisation makes his cock jump. 

The Bull leads Dorian across the room, and for a brief terrifying moment puts his hand on the door and Dorian wanders what he’ll do if the Bull decides to lead him out of the door — but he takes another step towards it almost defiantly and the Bull nods just ever so slightly as he lets go of the door. 

“Not tonight,” he murmurs. “You’d like that would you, little dog? Being paraded around like this?” The Bull tugs the leash again, this time towards the bed. “I know you would, like a bitch in heat.”

Dorian groans through the gag, he’s drooling now unable to close his mouth, feeling spit dribble down his chin. His jaw aches and he swallows, neck stretched and muscles straining from balancing on his knees. The Bull pulls the leash harder now, making Dorian stumble forwards, his knees hitting the stone floor hard as he struggles to stay up, and he whines in pain. The Bull watches him with parted lips, his gaze betraying his thoughts and Dorian can almost read them _so good for me, kadan, look at you_ and it makes him angry because it’s not what he asked for. So Dorian sits back on his heels and yanks on the leash with a sullen frown.

The Bull’s retribution is swift and painful. 

He steps to Dorian and grabs a fist full of black hair, pushing Dorian’s face into the floor so hard Dorian sees lights for few seconds. One hand pulls his hips up as the Bull steps to place his bare foot on Dorian’s head, keeping him pinned to the floor.

“I guess you need to be taught a lesson, after all,” the Bull says in a perfectly calm voice. “I would tell you to count them, but seeing you can’t talk you just have to take them like the animal you are.”

His fingers touch Dorian’s fist holding the bell ever so slightly as a reminder but Dorian just tightens his grip around it. First blow across Dorian’s ass cheeks makes him yelp out, sound muffled by the gag. Second, he’s prepared for, the third really starts to hurt, and Dorian lets go of all pretence of control and screams. Blows follow one after another and Dorian can’t keep up with the count anymore, helplessly taking them until he can feel nothing but the Bull’s hand across his ass and his almost has painfully hard cock slapping against his own belly.

Finally when Dorian’s voice is hoarse from screaming the next blow doesn’t follow and the Bull straightens his back, slowly moving his foot from Dorian’s head. Dorian is frantically pulling air in through his nostrils as tears are streaming from his eyes, and his ears are ringing after being pressed down against the floor. He’s whimpering and his skin is tingling, and he won’t move until the Bull shifts him, fingers under the collar lifting him by it until his face is on level with the Bull’s. 

“Are you a good little dog now?” the Bull asks and Dorian whines, truly he does sound like a dog now.

The Bull’s hand slides down Dorian’s back and his fingers feel cool against the heated flesh of his ass.

“Yes, I think you will be,” the Bull murmurs, squeezing a cheek until Dorian groans in pain again. “If you make it to the bed by the time I’m undressed, I’ll fuck you,” The Bull says pressing his face into Dorian’s hair, breathing in his smell. “Fuck you from behind like dogs are fucked.”

Dorian inhales sharply, his hips jutting forward involuntarily and he aches for that, aches for the Bull’s cock inside him. The Bull holds him up just long enough that he can get his balance back and then he’s gone, stepping closer to the bed starting to unfasten the buckles on his harness. Dorian takes a second to move, his knees screaming for mercy all bruised and scraped from kneeling on the stone floor but he hardly feels it, only thing he wants now is to get onto that bed in time. As he hears the Bull’s harness clatter on the floor and Dorian takes the final steps and then presses his face against the mattress, lifting his knee and trying to hoist himself up on the bed without his hands. Second attempt is successful and then the Bull is there on the bed too and his heavy cock presses against Dorian’s heated backside, his chest against Dorian’s back.

The Bull’s fingers are gentle as they trace Dorian’s jaw, wet with his uncontrollable drooling from the gag and he touches the strap as a question. The ache in Dorian’s jaw has slowly turned into a searing pain but he shakes his head and the Bull pulls his hand away. He’s on all fours on top of Dorian, reaching the for oil from between the mattress and the headboard, and when he’s got it he sits back on his heels, watching. It’s almost too much for Dorian who tries to lift his ass, anything to get the Bull to touch him.

“Hey little dog…” the Bull murmurs. “You really want it, don’t you. Showing yourself for me like that, so lewd.”

There’s still no touch, though Dorian and hear the Bull opening the bottle of oil, and hear the sound of slick flesh against flesh. The Bull’s voice doesn’t change but he must be stroking himself by now.

“Have you been good enough, little dog? Have you been good enough to earn my cock?”

Finally, a touch, the Bull presses his slick hard cock against Dorian’s thigh, rocking against it maddeningly slow, making sure Dorian knows how much the Bull wants him. Dorian moans through his gag, moving against the Bull, desperate for any contact. Then, firm hands spreading his tender cheeks, thick slick finger massaging his anus so gentle Dorian sobs.

“Here?” the Bull breathes, voice as soft as his touch and Dorian tries to move but the Bull’s fingers grip him tighter preventing it.

The Bull withdraws his finger and presses his cock against Dorian’s entrance but instead of pushing it in he just leaves it there.

“ _Now_ move for me, little dog,” the Bull purrs. “Show me how much you want it.” Fingers releasing their hold.

Dorian can’t take it anymore, he moves his hips pushing against the Bull’s cock and the Bull holds it steady so that Dorian can finally push it in. Dorian cries out because it’s exactly what he longed for, the familiar almost painful stretch and he wants it all, now, wants to be filled up until it’s all but too much to bear. Dorian moves his hips again, deeper, and this time they both groan in unison.

“Good little dog,” the Bull hisses, no longer pretending to be unaffected. “Fuck—”

Dorian pushes harder, it’s difficult with his hands behind his back but the Bull is leaning in, now his hand gently encouraging Dorian.

“If you could see how good you look,” the Bull murmurs, his voice rough and Dorian can hear how close he is to breaking his role. “Your ass stretching around my big cock so tight, yet you take it…”

And then, finally, the Bull grabs hold of Dorian tightly and slams his hips into the mage until his cock is buried to the hilt. Then again, and again until they’re both so loud they’re probably heard downstairs in the Herald’s Rest. The Bull fucks him hard and fast, his weight on Dorian pushing him to the mattress, pinning him down with Dorian’s cock trapped between his body and the mattress. Each thrust brings him closer to completion, hovering just on the edge for what seems like forever until the Bull’s hips finally still as he comes, cock pulsing deep inside Dorian. Dorian arches into him and the Bull bites his ear murmuring _Dorian, Dorian_ and the pain is enough to tip Dorian’s pleasure over to a blinding orgasm.

The Bull rolls them to their side almost immediately to relieve pressure off Dorian’s arms, one hand petting Dorian’s hair wet from the sweat, while the other hand quickly opens the buckle pulling the ball out of Dorian’s mouth. Dorian flexes his jaw and hisses.

“Too much?” the Bull murmurs and Dorian shakes his head.

“Just… right—“ he rasps.

Rough fingers rub the jaw, wiping the drool, and the Bull hums a little.

“You looked really good,” he says low. “On your knees, lips stretched around that ball. Shame I couldn’t fuck your mouth.”

Dorian grins weakly and shifts forward so the Bull can start untying his arms. 

The Bull touches Dorian’s fingers, letting him finally uncurl his fist and give the bell back to the Bull. 

“Look at you, you weren’t even close dropping it,” he murmurs admiring. 

Fingers so gentle now, massaging the aching joints, lips kissing the chaffed skin. More kisses on his scraped knees, tongue cleaning his cock and the mess on his stomach, the collar discarded and the neck gently stroked. Dorian lets the Bull clean him up and fill his senses, lets himself be unwound and tucked into bed against the Bull’s chest.

“Will you tell me about it?” the Bull asks when all is quiet and Dorian is hovering somewhere between awake and sleep.

“Tomorrow,” Dorian yawns and then, because he’s too tired and words just come out of his mouth. “Maybe… help me?”

The Bull squeezes him and leans in for a kiss but Dorian is already asleep.


End file.
